Mission to Leave Imafukusohad
by rry
Summary: The only way to leave the planet Imafukusohad is to do what they say... even if it is a humungo blow to one captain's pride. ...gen... but light K/S for Spock protecting Jim's penis from Bones


**Mission to Leave Imafukusohad**

"Wait, what!?" Jim yelled as he suddenly latched onto Spock's side, a leg lifting to the level of his hips in an attempt to protect his privates.

Spock, as outwardly stoic as ever, turned his head to regard his captain and raised an eyebrow. "Captain," Spock started but that was enough. Jim noticed his posture and quickly corrected it.

Jim cleared his throat and puffed out his chest. "I mean, ahem, that is a ridiculous. Please allow us to return to our ship without trouble."

As per usual, the away team had quite successfully managed to get themselves captured by aggressive natives and it was up to Captain (Awesome) Kirk to get them out of it. Of course, after much negotiation, when the natives of Imafukusohad had told him that the only way they were getting off the planet without casualties was for the captain to film a commercial, the captain readily agreed. However, after giving his word, he found out that the commercial would be for the infamous KY Personal Lubricant, the captain was feeling a bit… well… apprehensive.

"No," the Princeps of the city said, devoid of anything but seriousness. "You agreed and our Empire needs the revenue that the filming of this commercial will bring."

Jim let out a sound that reminded the away team of a cow trying to moo and failing. "Can't it be something else? Maybe a teddy bear? Or toothpaste?" Before the Princeps could reply, Jim felt and hand on his shoulder and he was turned around, suddenly flanked by McCoy and Spock.

"Jim," the doctor muttered in a half whisper. "It's not like you've never encountered KY so stop blushin' like a virgin and get us the hell off this planet."

"I concur," Spock intoned.

"Enticing people to buy KY and using in the privacy of my own bedroom (or occasionally up against a wall or a desk or a window!) are entirely different things!" Jim hissed at them.

"A window? What the hell, Jim! This is our once chance to get off his goddamn planet and you are filming this! Or so help me God, I will castrate you! Without anesthetic!"

Jim paled and grabbed at his crotch. He was pretty sure Bones didn't know how to do surgery with his mind… _yet_, but there was no point risking it.

"I believe that is a bit extreme, Doctor," Spock said in the captain's defense. "However, I would also like to leave this planet."

"Thaaanks, Spock," Jim said sarcastically. "Way to make me feel nice and safe one second and _throw me to the wolves the next_!"

Spock's eyebrows moved marginally closer together, "I did nothing of the sort, Captain."

Jim and Bones narrowed their eyes.

"Metaphor, Spock."

"Hmm."

"Fine," McCoy started again, "just do this, and we can go back to the _Enterprise_ and no one else need ever know of this. Ever."

"McCoy, you tell Chapel everything and she's a gossip whore. She'll tell it to Uhura and Uhura can tell it to everyone!" His eyes focused on some point in the future. "By this time tomorrow, everyone will know."

Spock straightened to see over Jim's shoulder. "Jim," he said, the use of the first name enough to draw the blond's attention.

"What?"

Spock pointed over Jim's shoulder now. "I do believe that if you do not comply with agreement of the commercial that the natives will be compelled to attack."

Jim looked and horror crossed his face. Indeed, the locals did look poised to attack, with sharp, pointy spears.

"Damn."

"You have no choice in matter, truthfully, Captain. You did give your word to the commercial."

"Why do you always have to point out the obvious Spock?"

Spock had the good grace to raise his eyebrows and look slightly affronted. "Captain I—"

"Never mind," Bones interrupted. "You gotta film this Jim, we needa get off this planet."

If Jim could have retained his masculinity while bawling like a little girl, he would have. Still, he tried not to weep as he consented.

So the Imafukusohadindaasins prettied him up and set him in front of a camera on a pink silk bed with a soft pink backdrop with soft yellow bubbles that looked… fuzzy.

Jim immediately sent a helpless/what-the-fuck/oh-dear-god look to where Bones, Spock, and their red shirt Muriel Tronchikov (who actually preferred geology to security and didn't really want to be there but was having a good time watching her superior being knocked down a peg or two thousand).

McCoy raised an eyebrow from where he stood but did nothing otherwise.

Jim went back to his self pity. He focus on not focusing on the fact they stripped him of all his clothes but his black boxers, styled his hair so it resembled that "just fucked" look, had his torso oiled, and glitter spread on his cheek bones. Jim took a deep breath and almost succeeded in finding his happy place when he was interrupted by a giant tube of lube being placed in his hand.

Bones laughed out loud at the look on Jim's face.

Five hours and five thousand tears later, the filming was complete and Jim was allowed to leave. And leave he did, as fast as possible. Without his pants. Made beaming back onto the ship awkward, but… he wasn't filming a KY commercial anymore.

So Jim put the whole incident behind himself and decided it didn't matter; only four people knew and one died on an away mission last week (which was sad, but now she couldn't tell a soul).

But then, his lubey skeletons came out of the closet.

It was after an incident with some rather nefarious Klingons and some destructive but helpful tribbles that Ensign Brak found the commercial running during a football game he recorded during leave. And it spread around the ship faster than the tribbles of which they'd just rid themselves.

"This is terrible!!" Jim moaned as he pulled at his hair and paced the length of his cabin. "I'm ruined! Ruined, I tell you!"

Spock, who was sitting at the chair next to his desk with his arms crossed, raised an eyebrow.

Jim seemed to hear his opinion because he whipped around and grabbed Spock by the front of his science blues. "You have to smuggle me off the ship! It's the only way I can continue a normal life! I'll have to change my name! I can't captain the _Enterprise _anymore!" Jim shuddered and let go of Spock. He moved to the corner of the room and appeared to have finally given up on his masculinity and started crying.

Spock resisted a very common urge he had started to get while serving under Jim Kirk: it was to roll his eyes. "Honestly, sir, I see no reason to feel so ashamed. You did what you had to in order to return yourself and your crewmen to this ship."

Jim whipped around again. "Yeah! Maybe! But_ they_ don't know that!"

"They?"

"My crew!" Jim scrubbed at his hair and walked back to his desk; he stopped at his computer and called up the advertisement. "Look at this! Look at it!" he gestured to the monitor and Spock stood and walked around the table to view the commercial. "And tell me it isn't terrible!"

The commercial started with sultry music as the camera panned up Jim's legs, over his hips, up his torso and, finally, to his face. The glitter and oil made his body and face glisten (and there were added lensflares for effect). He gave the camera the eye and said (as huskily as possible), "When I want to get closer to my crew, I use KY Personal Lubricant." He skillfully showed off the bottle and continued in his seductress voice, "For the best, skin on skin contact, use KY Personal Lubricant."

Jim was crying again and Spock raised an eyebrow at the view screen.

The captain raised his face hopefully as Spock turned to face him, hands behind his back, and face stiff (except for an eyebrow twitching, [which usually meant annoyance, but this time it meant he was trying his damndest not to laugh]). "Perhaps it would be best if you adapted the Hydrarian practice of total body coverings."

Jim let out a wail and went back to crying.

THE END!


End file.
